


Clouded Eyes

by Lulabellaxx



Series: Floating Away [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Better Petunia Dursley, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Slytherins, Gothic, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Mental Health Issues, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Romance, Sarcastic Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Snarky Draco Malfoy, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, depersonalisation, derealisation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulabellaxx/pseuds/Lulabellaxx
Summary: When the Dursley's increasing hatred for Harry and his magic become too much for him, he spends as much time as he can at the library with the mysterious Maggie, a witch who insists that Harry is a wizard and that she can help him. Harry doesn't know what to believe, but Maggie lends him books and has really cool eyeliner so he's content with that. Maybe one day he'll even go to this Hogwarts place that she talks about. What will they think of him? Can Maggie really be trusted? What plans has Harry unwittingly caught himself up in? With all this to consider Harry may need to worry first about getting to Hogwarts alive.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Sirius Black & Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Floating Away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797442
Comments: 27
Kudos: 330





	1. Broken Glasses and Noses

Harry held a mirror in his hands, despite the cracks in it and his current lack of glasses, Harry could see that his nose was slanting slightly to the left. Blood was caked around his nose like the flaking red paint on his nails, Harry had stolen some nail polish from Aunt Petunia earlier that week and she had yet to notice. Harry needed something to entertain himself after all since only Dudley had TV privileges.

Harry tried to refocus on his nose, not wanting to admit that it was probably broken. Unfortunately, at age seven he had enough experience to know what a broken nose looked like, thanks to Dudley and Uncle Vernon. The blood had stopped streaming and had resigned itself to an occasional drip like a leaky tap.

Flopping back onto his small makeshift bed, Harry sighed. It wasn't his fault that Dudley’s new cricket bat had suddenly shrunk… well maybe it was a little bit his fault but Dudley didn't have any proof, he wasn't smart enough for that sort of thing. Dudley just assumed that it was him and Harry had ended up pinned down in a flower bed of daffodils with Dudley trying to split his skull in two. Thankfully, like with many things Dudley had failed and Aunt Petunia had called Dudley in for dinner before any further damage could be done.

Perhaps Harry could fix it with his talents. Aunt Petunia at would scream at him whenever he used them and Uncle Vernon would punish him. Harry shivered at the thought of Uncle Vernon, the man was more raging bull than person, but they wouldn't need to know. Harry knew he had talents that the other children at school didn't have and that made him special, not better but certainly different. He'd gained a certain amount of control of the strange power that flowed through his body, but it was difficult and sometimes refused to help him.

Harry decided to try and fix his nose regardless, it couldn't be worse than having to lie to his teacher about why it was broken. Harry pressed a couple of fingers to the bridge of his nose wincing at the shooting pain that darted through his face. He could feel it within him, the power, and it seemed to be cooperative. Harry shut his eyes and focussed. His nose began to feel warmer then hot, almost unbearably so, as the power sang at the tips of his fingertips, following his silent but pleading instructions to fix and heal.

“Ouch!” Harry cried out, cool tears trickled down his burning face from the sudden pain from his nose. Cautiously, Harry sat up and fumbled for the light switch, it was already getting dark. Harry really hoped he hadn't somehow made it worse, but looking at it in the mirror it seemed straighter. It also hurt less, after the initial snap back into place. Had he done it? Yes, Harry supposed he had. His talents were advancing and Harry wasn't sure how to feel. Maybe he could throw Dudley into the bin one day, that'd be funny considering how many times Dudley had done it to Harry. There was the matter of whether or not he'd fit. Harry only seemed to fit since, for his age, he was awfully small.

Harry smiled as he sat back down to bed and pulled a threadbare blanket to his chest. Contentment filled him at last, he'd done something magical. Harry was like a superhero from one of Dudley’s TV shows, except without the laser eyes or flying, so maybe not. His eyes began to feel heavy, before he remembered his glasses. Oh well, he knew where Aunt Petunia kept the sellotape.

***

The next morning, Harry felt the warm tendrils of sunlight stroking his face through the tiny window at the foot of his bed. The sun had risen and apparently it meant that Harry also had to. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, Harry managed to pull himself from his bed as tempting as more sleep was it wasn't worth the trouble not making breakfast would create. Before leaving the room, Harry grabbed his broken glasses from his dresser and hoped Petunia hadn't used all the sellotape yet.

Harry opened the door to the bathroom, a room that despite only containing a toilet, sink and bath was still almost double the size if his own bedroom, the Dursley’s certainly spared no expense when it came to themselves. Harry stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror before sloshing some water on his face to wash away the crusty blood that was left over from the night before. He certainly wasn't looking his best but none of the other kids at school particularly cared about Harry's appearance, they'd bully him either way.

Next came the matter of fixing his glasses. The sellotape was relatively easy to find but wrapping it around his glasses to make them wearable had been an ordeal, he'd thought about using magic to fix them but he was tired and not looking to push his luck and be left with no glasses at all.

While Harry tried to fry some eggs and bacon for breakfast the glasses kept slipping down his nose which was incredibly annoying. He just about managed to get it all plated up before he heard the lumbering footsteps of Uncle Vernon and Dudley stumbling down the stairs. No Aunt Petunia for some reason. Harry looked at them briefly, both bulging out of their silken dressing gowns while Harry had to sleep in his clothes from the day before. He nodded towards the plates on the kitchen island before heading towards his cupboard room.

Vernon grabbed Harry’s wrist, his small squinted eyes glaring and filled with disdain, “Petunia hasn't been feeling too well this morning boy, why don't you take her breakfast up to her.”

It was a command rather than a question so Harry nodded slowly, there was something wrong he could feel it. As Harry headed up the stairs he could still feel Vernon’s eyes on him, he was angry at him for something, very angry. What could Harry possibly have done to enrage him so early in the morning? Maybe Dudley bruised his fists on Harry’s nose? Harry tried not to laugh at the thought, it sounded like a plausible explanation knowing his relatives.

Placing the plate upon Petunia’s side table Harry looked at her face she was asleep. Then Harry noticed her nose, bruised layers of purple and red blending together as though they were paint thrown at a canvas, swollen slightly and crooked. Had Harry done that? The horror set in as Harry realised what he must have done. Harry began to pick at his nails, focussing on the flaking red rather than the consequences of his actions. That was certainly power.

***

Harry's hands were shaking as he put on his uniform to head to school, it was far too big but at least Aunt Petunia had given him a belt to hold up the trousers. Aunt Petunia, Harry didn't like the woman, he'd go as far as to say he hated her but it hadn't been on purpose. Right? It was an accident.

“Boy! Get out here before we leave without you!” Harry heard Uncle Vernon’s voice booming throughout the house and scrambled out of the house. Vernon glared down at him disgustedly. Harry sat in the back of the car while Dudley was in the front with Vernon. Thankfully, this meant that neither was going to speak to him and Dudley wasn't going to kick him in the shins every time he saw a yellow car or a red car or a grey car… basically any car, which Harry was sure defeated the purpose of the game.

The world blurred by as though it was made of smudged crayon squiggles. Maybe Harry could go to the library after school and see his friend Maggie and tell her about what had happened. Maggie was a few years older than Harry and volunteered at the library most days after school, she was also insistent that Harry was some sort of magical person like she was. Harry wasn't too sure but Maggie often gave him interesting books, information and always knew the right thing to say. 

The car jolted to a stop and Harry clambered out not sparing Dudley or Vernon a single glance. Maggie would help him. He only needed to survive the school day which was easier said than done.


	2. Spell Books and Healing Potions

Harry was quite proud of himself. He'd made it through the day with only two bruises and a scraped knee, which was an achievement. Even Dudley and his band of brutes had given him some peace. School hadn't been so bad since he accidentally set one of the year 4 girls hair on fire. Nobody could prove it was him and there wasn't much harm done, but everybody seemed to have taken to leaving him alone which Harry greatly appreciated. 

Dudley had cricket practice and a match that evening, meaning that Harry would be able to go and see Maggie for even longer as Vernon would be expecting him to wait around until Dudley’s cricket match was over. Not a chance. 

The library was only a few minutes away from school but Harry was small and hadn't eaten much that day so he stumbled into the library with flushed pink cheeks and a sweat covered brow. The library was expansive with stone columns forming archways between each section (Maggie said the building was almost 300 years old so that was why it looked so strange), a cold, white tile floor and shelves upon shelves of books reaching towards the ceiling, on everything from baking brownies to the history of the royal family. Harry loved the library, not just because they actually had air conditioning which was a blessing in the summer, but because the myriad of knowledge held there in shelves that were colourful enough to be wooden rainbows. The amount of time Harry spent reading in one of the multicolour beanbag chairs in the children’s section meant that school had become rather dull for him. 

It was a Wednesday so Maggie should have been stocking shelves with her trolley. Harry approached the small reception desk where Mrs Knowles was sat typing away at her computer, there wasn't much else to do, the library wasn't exactly bustling. Mrs Knowles had short, grey hair, wore very colourful shawls that clashed with themselves and was by far Harry’s favourite librarian. 

Mrs Knowles looked up at Harry her wrinkled face slowly morphing into a smile. She reminded Harry of a happy sloth although Harry would never tell her, he felt she wouldn't take it as a compliment. 

“Harry darling! It's so good to see you!” Mrs Knowles pulled her glasses up to her eyes to better look at Harry. She took one look at his glasses and tutted, “Do you need me to get those fixed for you, dearie?” She said gently.

“No thank you Mrs Knowles, my aunt and uncle are buying me a new pair soon,” the lie slid from Harry's tongue easily and he gave Mrs Knowles a small reassuring smile. 

“Alright then. Would you by any chance be here to see Miss Maggie?” Mrs Knowles asked with a smile. 

Harry grinned in response, “Of course!” Harry began to bounce on the balls of his feet as he waited for an answer. 

“She should be stocking the shelves in the history section, right now,” Mrs Knowles replied looking down at Harry, “Don't go getting into too much trouble, dear,” she laughed as Harry scurried towards the history section, smiling widely. 

The history section, like all sections in the library was enormous and empty of people. It was cool, dim and filled with thick hard back books that fascinated Harry immensely. Although there were often very complicated words that the librarians would have to explain to Harry in them. 

Harry momentarily worried how he was going to find Maggie. Then he heard the screeching of the trolley being moved, a thud and a string of expletives echo throughout the room. Maggie wasn't known for her subtlety. Harry smiled, grateful for once that Maggie couldn't keep quiet for longer than a minute. 

“What a twat you are Henry! I know you executed your wives and all that so I should have expected it, but my foot’s killing now!” Maggie growled at a particularly large book with a portrait of Henry VIII on the cover. Maggie started when she noticed Harry stood a little behind her, nearly dropping the book on her foot again. “Sh-sugar...Yep. So Harry what brings you here?” 

“Mags… I know what swear words are, I'm not stupid.” Harry said looking up at Maggie as she shoved Henry VIII onto one of the shelves. 

“I know, just you're a baby and if I learned anything from my family, it's manners,” Maggie said, her purple painted lips quirking into a small smile, “And don't change the subject kiddo, I taught you how to do that.”

“I broke my aunt's nose.” Harry said matter-of-factly. 

Maggie tilted her head to one side and pressed her lips together, “By accident?” 

“Well of course!” Harry said, shocked. 

“Just checking… If it had been me it certainly wouldn't have been one. How'd you manage it?” Maggie asked. 

Maggie nodded along with Harry's explanation while she shelved books and occasionally levitated those that belonged on shelves too high to her to reach. 

“It sounds pretty dark. Not that it's your fault, I just can't imagine any spell like that being allowed by the Ministry. Though they're a bunch of arses so not much is.” Maggie said when Harry finished. 

“Is there something wrong with me, Mags?” Harry looked up at Maggie with wide, doe eyes.

“No Harry. You just have talents that are different from other people's. You'll find those who understand you and it’s not like you meant any harm, kiddo. Trust in your resident dark witch! I may even be able to find something to help in my bag of wonders.”

“Thank you Mags, for taking care of me,” Harry said with a smile, throwing his arms around her waist in a hug. Maggie paused before patting him on the head, gently. 

“I'm always gonna look out for you, ok?” Maggie said with a smile, while Harry nodded enthusiastically, “You're basically family at this point.” Maggie went back to shelving books while Harry leant against the trolley, in a comfortable silence. 

“Will they still let me in Hogwarts?” Harry asked, after a moment, his brow furrowing with worry. 

“They'd be fools not to. You’re so promising they'll want to mould you the second they can get their hands on you.” Maggie scoffed. 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. 

“Long story kiddo. How about you help me with this lot and then I explain as best I can with no distractions?” Maggie grinned. 

“So you want me to help you do your work so you can get off early?” Harry stared at Maggie, before she laughed.

“You're too smart for me! I surrender. But it's not like you're not going to get anything out of it.” 

“Fine.” Harry agreed, grabbing an armful of books from Maggie's cart to sort. 

***

When all of the books had been put away, Maggie ruffled Harry's hair and gave him a grin. 

“I thought goths weren't allowed to smile.” Harry said. Maggie's grey eyes stared down at him, she began to blink rapidly and stuck her bottom lip out. Harry decided then that Maggie was possibly the worst actress he had ever seen. 

“I can do as I please,” Maggie smiled gently, grabbing her black shoulder bag and slinging it across her body. Harry followed her as they exited the library and headed to the park opposite, they'd sometimes go there when Maggie finished work early. Maggie insisted that if the Dursleys wouldn't give him a childhood then she would, to which Harry pointed out that she wasn't an adult yet either, even if she tried to act like one. 

Maggie and Harry settled under a large willow tree. Maggie had already kicked off her shoes and had a blanket on the floor by the time before Harry sat down. Harry stared incredulously at Maggie's small, black bag and thought it best not to ask what else she had in there or how. 

“So kiddo, what was it you wanted to know about again?” Maggie said shaking out her long black hair. 

“About why Hogwarts wants to ‘mould’ me and dark magic too,” Harry said with a sigh letting himself rest against the trunk of the tree. 

“So demanding,” Maggie smiled before continuing, “You remember how we talked about the wizarding war and the whole you being famous thing?”

“Well yes? I still don't understand, it's not like I did much,” Harry said running a hand through his hair in embarrassment.

“Don't be too humble, it doesn't suit you. Well you killed the leader of the dark side known as Snake face,” Maggie snorted at her nickname for him. 

“I still don't believe that his actual name is Snake face.” Harry said with a laugh. 

“I don't know his actual name and the one he went by the entire wizarding world is too scared to say,” Maggie sighed, “So we're going with Snake face, if you'd seen the guy you'd know why.” 

“You've seen him?!” Harry exclaimed, “But wasn't he murderer and completely mad?” 

“Yes but a lot of my family supported him, out of fear, delusion or because they couldn't stand the alternatives. I only would have been about six or seven. Not like you can forget his face though,” Maggie shivered, “Anyways, back on track, he was fighting the so called light side and after his death there was nobody to oppose them and they alongside the Ministry cracked down on dark magic even harder.” 

“But if I can do dark magic why would they want me to go to Hogwarts?” 

“Albus Dumbledore, leader of the light side and is the Headmaster of Hogwarts and he will do anything to get you. Not to mention he'd never dream of the light side's golden boy having any affinity for dark magic.” 

Harry groaned while flopping back onto the blanket, “Why's it all so overcomplicated?” 

“I wish I knew. Dumbledore wants to have the light side's golden boy since the wizarding world practically worships you. Whatever he's planning he needs you to be cooperative.” Maggie scowled. 

“I take it you don't like him?” Harry laughed. 

“The old bastard acts so innocent and like some sort of powerful, omnibenevolent God, and the humble act he has makes he want to vomit!” Maggie grumbled. 

“What's he done to you, Mags, you sound ready to punch him in the face?” 

“He excluded me from Hogwarts… for a year. A bloody year! He might as well have expelled me. I get to go back next Feburary. Just because I was getting a bit too close to his plans he kicked me out. I wouldn't be surprised if my family will take this as an excuse to burn me off the tree.” 

“I thought they hated him too.” Harry said with confusion. 

“Yes but they also don't like my whole not wishing death on muggles stance, you know the usual?” 

“I guess?” Harry muttered, enjoying not doing anything for an afternoon. After a few minutes of relaxation, Maggie broke the silence by scrambling for her bag and reaching into it, all the way up to her shoulder!?

“Are you sure you should be doing that in public Mags?” Harry whispered, his eyes darting around the park. They were fairly well hidden by the overhanging willow leaves but Harry didn't want Maggie getting in trouble, especially when she clearly already was. 

“Fair point,” Maggie mumbled, “I can't find the dangthing anyway.” 

“Can't you just use magic?” Harry asked. 

“I suppose, I'm not the best at wand-less for anything more than the levitation charm, but it'll have to be unless I want the Ministry trying to put me in Azkaban.”

“They'd try to put you in Azkaban? You're only… twelve?” Harry whispered, astonished but trying not to alert the entire park. 

“They seem to have a love of arresting my family members,” Maggie laughed bitterly, before mumbling a spell that was unfamiliar to Harry. A thick leather bound book rushed into Maggie’s hand from her black satchel. She clutched it close to her chest while closing her bag. 

“What was that spell?” Harry asked.

“Accio. It's pretty handy to know if you're in a pinch, just say accio and then whatever you want afterwards. I don't know how good your control will be until you get a wand but I think that you'll be able to do it.” Maggie said, her voice soft. 

Harry looked up at Maggie, her stormy grey eyes, rimmed with smudged black eyeliner. She looked conflicted. 

“Harry, I'm going to give you something very important to me,” Maggie said, nodding her head towards the book, “Promise that you'll keep it safe?” 

“Of course, I promise that I won't let any harm come to it,” Harry said, his large green eyes looking up at Maggie in earnest. 

“I don't think you need to hear it but I'll say it anyway, if anybody in the wizarding world came across this book, we'd both be in a lot of trouble.” 

Harry nodded along to Maggie's words before she handed him the book. As soon as he touched the cover, Harry could feel the magic radiating from it and his palms began to tingle. 

“Most of it's dark magic but there are a few spells in there that you could get away with using at Hogwarts,” Maggie said with a laugh. 

“So you mean there are a few in here that haven't been made illegal yet?” Harry snorted. 

“I suppose, but I swear there are neutral spells in there… I just don't remember where, but they're in there somewhere and thankfully there's no black magic so it's all safe to use without risking any bits of your soul or body parts.” 

“What's the difference between dark and black magic?” Harry asked his small nose crunching up in confusion. 

“That's a lesson for another day Harry, just know that black magic is not something you should be messing with no matter what. Ok?” Maggie’s face had lost it's soft, playfulness and her serious expression made Harry nervous. 

“Ok, don't worry Maggie,” Harry said firmly. Then with a glance towards the sky, “I'd better get going now, my Uncle should be picking me up soon.”

Maggie’s eyes widened in slight panic and she grappled with her bag once more before handing Harry another bag and a small potion bottle filled with a deep red liquid, “Slip that to your aunt if you have a chance and put anything that needs protecting in there,” Maggie said gesturing to the bag.

Harry nodded and did as Maggie instructed, “Thank you Mags, you're the best!” 

“No problem kid, just visit me once in a while and tell me how you're getting on. I'm bored to death surrounded by muggles.” 

“Of course,” Harry replied, turning on his heel and walking away from the park. Harry headed towards the school fields, the heavy, black drawstring bag clutched tightly in his hand. 

When Harry finally reached the fields, the cricket game seemed to be reaching it's end, with Dudley’s team being the clear winners. If Harry had cared about cricket or Dudley he might have cheered alongside the crowd of parents and school children. However, Harry was bored by cricket and hated Dudley so he waited on the edge of the field for the game to hurry up and end so he could get back to the Dursley’s house and eat dinner. The game eventually did end with the other team predictably losing, it was obvious that they weren't going to win so couldn't the game have ended ten minutes prior? It would have saved Harry feeling like a boiled tomato. 

Dudley trotted of towards the edge of the field to Uncle Vernon and so Harry scurried behind, not wanting to hold them up. Thankfully, Vernon didn't notice the Harry's newly acquired bag and it's contents, as he was too busy congratulating his ‘marvellous son’ on his win while also managing to throw in a few hamfisted insults to Harry. Harry chose to ignore the insults, his day had been going quite well and he didn't need Vernon’s ‘disciplining’ for whatever perceived attack on him Harry had orchestrated. 

When they'd arrived home, Vernon microwaved himself and Dudley some leftovers for dinner, since Petunia was still napping in bed. Meanwhile, Harry managed to find some scraps that he pieced together to form something that seemed edible. Harry still devoured everything on the plate until his ravaging hunger dulled to an ache in his stomach. 

“Boy, take Petunia up some tea!” Vernon bellowed from the living room, over the murmur of the television. Harry sighed, he had wanted to look at the book Maggie had given him, but he did feel bad for Petunia, he hadn't meant to hurt her and she'd been fairly kind to him recently. Bringing her some tea shouldn't take too long anyway. 

While Harry stirred some sugar into Petunia’s mug of tea, he pulled the small, red potion vial from the bag which he’d kept on him since entering the house. Harry poured what he felt was a suitable amount into the mug and watched in awe as the red liquid glistened and swirled throughout the tea. Then, it faded until it seemed as though Harry hadn't poured anything in at all. He checked the vial to make sure that he hadn't been imagining things, before heading up the stairs and placing the mug of tea on Petunia’s bedside table. 

Harry was grateful that she was awake and so would probably drink the tea and feel better. He then scurried away, not keen to spend any more time than necessary with his aunt. Petunia glared at Harry as he left the room, not once speaking to him. Was she afraid? Harry felt guilt bubbling like hot tar in the pit of his stomach, but he'd done all he could to fix his mistake so he tried to ignore the rising bile. 

He opened the small wooden door to his cupboard and slumped against it, fumbling for the light switch. Harry crossed his legs and pulled the book from the bag. Tracing his fingers across the silver runes painted onto the cover, Harry felt the magic soothing him and whispering to him, yet he didn't know what it was saying. Breaking the trance he had fallen into, Harry flipped the book open and felt a surge of magic respond or him. It clutched at his face and filled him with a sense of calm and belonging, the magic felt oddly familiar. 

Harry read the inside cover where in faded blue ink someone had written a message  _ ‘Property of Magdalena Agnes Black, Sisi if you're reading this stop touching my stuff!’  _ Harry wondered how Maggie had got a hold of the book, while he skimmed through some basic runes and spells. Some pages were annotated in the same blue ink with helpful advice, Harry noted with a laugh, before putting the book back into the bag and settling down to sleep. 


	3. Shopping and Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the later update. I hoped to update every Sunday, but I unfortunately burnt my arm in my oven. Thankfully it isn't serious but it did put a bit of a spanner in the works. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

When Harry awoke, he immediately fumbled for the spell book. Finding the bag slid beneath his dresser and assuring himself that it hadn't all been a dream, he felt relieved. Harry sighed and smiled briefly. However, he reminded himself that he had chores to be doing and couldn't waste any time. 

Harry tidied up the kitchen and washed up the dishes from the previous night. Aunt Petunia must have slept the whole day if she'd left the dishes unwashed. Hopefully, the potion had helped. Next, Harry fried some eggs and bacon for the Dursley’s, noting that they were running low on eggs. Harry was probably going to have to buy some more, at least the nice cashier's might be there for him to chat with. 

Eventually, Harry finished preparing breakfast and changed into his uniform in time to hear the Dursley’s rousing upstairs. Harry even had enough time to slip in an apple before school, filling his growling stomach. It was going to be a good day, Harry could feel it. 

Aunt Petunia sat down to eat breakfast, while Harry waited next to the door for them to finish. 

“So Harry,” Petunia grimaced, “I'm feeling better today.” Harry looked to his aunt, she certainly looked better, the potion must have worked. Although, Harry felt as though that wasn't the point she was trying to convey. Therefore, Harry simply nodded slowly and waited for her to continue.

“I know it was you, you freakish child,” Petunia hissed, glaring a hole through Harry's head. 

“I was in the cupboard all night, Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon locked me in and everything,” Harry said softly, sounding as innocent as he could. The guilt from the night prior had all but dissipated upon actually talking to Petunia. The woman could put people off a lot of things just by being herself. 

“You know exactly how,” Petunia was seething and had a look of feral anger in her beady eyes. Harry was tempted to tell Petunia that she herself insisted that magic didn't exist, but Harry didn't want to push his luck. Harry just smiled sweetly and waited for Uncle Vernon and Dudley to get downstairs. 

“Aunt Petunia, we've almost run out of eggs.” Harry said, while staring into space. 

Petunia looked up from her breakfast, “Well go and buy some more!” she screeched, as though it was that easy. 

Harry hesitated in fear, “You haven't given me any money to go shopping lately.” 

Petunia groaned, before conceding and raking a few notes and a slip of paper from her purse with her long, slender fingers and handed them to Harry. “I already had a list written, you can go after school today though. Give me the receipt after and don't you dare buy anything else!” She said, going on the usual tangent, as if Harry was going to steal from her. She owed him a lot regardless so even if he did buy something for himself it wouldn't be undeserved. 

After an awkward silence, Vernon and Dudley quickly arrived and demolished the breakfast that Harry had spent so long preparing. Harry suppressed a groan before piling their plates on the side board. Why couldn't they just do it themselves? 

That morning Uncle Vernon almost left Harry behind for some reason. Harry had been trying to get his shoes on, only the soles were falling off, which made it quite difficult. Fortunately, Harry managed to make it to the car on time. Harry had a suspicion that his panicked magic had kept the car from starting, which, while he was grateful, he preferred when he was the one in control. 

Vernon and Dudley were talking about sending Dudley to boxing lessons, well Vernon was praising his son for being so talented and Dudley was whining about wanting to go to boxing camp. Dudley, Harry had learned, was probably never going to grow up, he was spoiled like a toddler and that was never going to change. Harry began to daydream and disappear into a far off land. There were swirling, brightly coloured people made out of light and they danced with Harry. Spinning, soaring, flying. Falling onto the concrete as Uncle Vernon pushed Harry out of the car. Harry looked up to see Dudley walking towards school. 

“Listen to me when I speak to you boy,” Vernon growled, spitting onto the pavement next to Harry. Shivers shot down Harry's spine at the sight while Vernon sped away. 

Harry's palms were stinging, they were red, grazed by the harsh concrete. His back bruised from where Vernon had shoved him and sorely protested when Harry stood to walk towards the school gates. 

Strangely enough, Harry felt quite calm, he knew he was in pain yet at the same time that pain didn't feel like his. In fact Harry didn't feel much like himself at all. The feeling had been becoming more and more frequent, Harry sometimes wasn't sure if he was a real person at all. Sometimes a sharp slap or slash from Vernon or some particularly harsh words from Petunia would bring moments of clarity. In those moments, Harry wanted nothing more than to drift away into the sweet clutches of disbelief and the non reality that existed especially for him. However, the feeling had become more constant, until Harry found that he usually didn't connect with much. His school days were normally blurry messes and, unfortunately, Harry only ever tended to realise that he had barely been present when his teacher was calling his name for the fourth time. Luckily, Mrs Miller was very nice and never shouted at him, like his relatives would if he didn't respond. Although, she hadn't offered to help either which confused Harry, maybe there was something so wrong with him that she  _ couldn't  _ help him? Mrs Miller had helped Dudley learn to add, though, which Harry considered a very impressive achievement, so maybe Harry simply didn't deserve help? No, he did. Maggie assured him almost every day that he was good and Harry would always believe Maggie above the Dursleys. 

Harry eventually made it to his classroom, where Mrs Miller smiled gently at him while all the other children stared. They did that a lot. Harry didn't really care enough to ask them to stop, it wasn't like it would work. 

Harry felt like he was floating in an aquarium fish tank, while everyone around him was visiting to look at all the fish. Separate from them. There was a sheet of glass that kept him out and distorted everything. The world and people around him were flattened, colourless, swirling and spilling forth from their own boundaries, like toddlers who couldn't colour within the lines. How long had it been? 

Harry realised there was a worksheet in front of him and barely recognised his own hand moving towards the sheet to fill it in. So much for it being a good day. Yesterday was better. Maybe today would improve? 

By the time the day ended, Harry felt marginally better… well better enough to register that the day had in fact ended. It had been a few months since he'd disconnected so badly. Harry was glad to feel slightly more conscious of his surroundings, the warmth of the sun on his skin and the feel of the stones on the pavement pressing into the soles of his shoes made everything feel a lot more real. 

Harry fumbled in his pocket for Petunia’s shopping list, it was slightly crumpled but otherwise unharmed, when he retrieved it.  _ Milk, bread, chocolate spread, snacks for Dudley, chicken, beef, chips, cake, ice cream, carrots, gravy granules _ … The list went on and on and on. Harry should have brought some bags with him, Aunt Petunia always hated him buying more. 

The local shopping centre was stuffy, hot and smelled of sweat and air freshener. People were shoving from all sides, pressing, pushing and piling onto one another. Harry hated shopping, but he welcomed the task if it meant not having to spend as much time with the Dursleys. Harry had come to realise, quite early on, that the longer he was out of the house the better his day was going to be. 

Harry grabbed a large shopping trolley, he was quite small for his age and could just about reach the handle bars to steer the trolley if Harry stood on his tiptoes. As quickly as he could manage, Harry navigated down the long aisles, finding the items on the list and occasionally groaning when he realised that an aisle was in a different place. Why couldn't shops just keep everything in the same place for more than a month? 

When Harry came to the shelves with eggs on them he realised that they were much too high to him to reach. Harry's normal technique of hitting at something until it fell wasn't really applicable to eggs, unfortunately. Harry knew that he could ask one of the shop assistants for help, but Harry was wary of most adults (especially the ones he didn't know). There was also the issue of how when Harry grew too anxious his body would become all floaty and his brain would feel like a ball of stringy cotton wool. Harry certainly didn't need to feel any worse than he already did, his day certainly hadn't been going too well. It was at that moment that Harry decided to resolve the issue himself and magic was the solution. 

Maggie had warned Harry against using magic in front of muggles because of some wizarding laws and the fact that Harry would probably get into trouble with the Ministry. However, Maggie had taught Harry a spell in case he ever - for some reason - needed to use magic around muggles. Harry breathed in and focussed and tried to remember Maggie’s lecturing. ‘ _ You’re not trying to make yourself invisible right now. That's far too straining. You just don't want anyone to notice you. You want their eyes to slide off of you rather than see through you, like a chameleon.’  _

Harry could feel the pull on his magic as it swirled around him slowly before his skin began to tingle and prickle. He'd done it!

Harry's eyes darted up and down the aisle, thankfully nobody else was there vying for baking supplies. As Harry glared at the boxes of eggs on the top shelf, he could feel his magic straining to keep up. Two boxes began to shift across the shelf as Harry kept his eyes trained on them. The boxes began to float off the shelves and into the trolley. It was painfully slow. Harry sighed in relief when the boxes settled themselves down and he could finally release the charms.  _ Maggie would be proud _ , Harry thought with a weak smile. Harry's whole body felt heavy and sapped of strength, even his legs were juddering violently as he walked. He really needed a nap. 

Walking to the cash register, Harry was grateful that he'd saved getting the eggs until last. 

Harry was vaguely aware of the cool plastic pressed against his palms when he picked up some bags to buy, but the rest of it seemed a blur of his hands putting items next to the cashier without him asking them to. It seemed like the woman was trying to make conversation with him as she scanned the products, but Harry was too preoccupied by the fact that she looked like she was moulded from plastic. His head was too heavy and foggy and full to catch any of her words before they flew away. 

With plastic shopping bags digging into his palms, Harry wandered out of the shop. The heat of the beating sun only made Harry's vision blurrier. Did Harry need better glasses or was his brain just odd?

Feet were tapping against the pavement… were they Harry's? From the bushes by the road there was a faint hissing. Wait… hissing? 

“ _ Damned humans. So loud. So crude.”  _

Harry glanced towards the bushes, “ _ Who’s there?”  _ There was a rustle from the bushes and a snake poked its head out from beneath the leaves. The snake was slender with iridescent, black scales and black shining eyes. 

_ “Just a child. I thought there was as a speaker.”  _ The snakes forked tongue flicked against the air, with what Harry could only describe as irritation. 

“ _I can understand you, does that make me a speaker?”_ Harry asked, trying to concentrate on the snake rather than how floaty everything felt. The snake's head jolted upwards and it slid towards Harry’s foot. 

_ “Yesss. How is it that you speak, young one?”  _ the snake asked, it's head swaying from side to side. 

_ “I'm not sure,”  _ Harry replied, slowly, _ “It doesn't feel any different to speaking normally. I suppose it comes naturally.”  _

_ “Curious child. Most peculiar. Though the magical often are.”  _

_ “How do you know that I have magic?”  _ Harry questioned, startled by the snake’s perceptiveness. 

_ “I suppose you might call it a sixth sense. Many magical creatures have it to keep us safe. It helps to tell the muggles from the wizards.”  _

Harry raised his eyebrows quizzically,  _ “I apologise if this sounds rude, but you don't look particularly magical.”  _

_ “It's the Ministry glamours. They don't trust us to stay hidden. They don't trust anything non-human.”  _ the snake hissed angrily. 

_ “I'm sorry that sounds awful.”  _ Harry could empathise with the snake, he knew what it felt like to be outcast and distrusted. Harry sighed and realised that he had to return soon, unless he wanted Vernon to be angry. Even thought made him shudder.  _ “I need to return to my guardians before they… worry about me.”  _

The snake looked slightly disappointed,  _ “It'd be a shame to lose such an interesting wizard. It has been a long time since my kind has met one of yours.”  _

_ “Would you like to come with me then?”  _ Harry offered. The snake seemed friendly and Harry longed to have another friend. 

_ “That is a generous offer, speaker. Perhaps introductions are in order if I am to agree?”  _

Harry nodded vigorously,  _ “I'm Harry and you are?”  _

_ “Veneno.”  _

_ “It's nice to meet you, Veneno.” _

Veneno hissed approvingly before Harry bent down and offered his wrist. Veneno slithered up the baggy sleeve of Harry’s school shirt and coiled around his upper arm. The cool press of Veneno’s scales against Harry's skin made him feel much more connected to reality. It was relieving that some things could help Harry, at least for a little while, feel like a real person living a real worthwhile life. 

***

When Harry had finished making dinner, he managed to escape to the cupboard. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hadn't been too angry with him. Vernon had smacked him in the back, quiet hard, but it could have been worse, Harry thought. The two had been rather distracted trying to decide which boxing camp to send Dudley to over the summer,  _ only the best would do for Duddiekins.  _

Harry had left the small window in his room open so Veneno could hunt as he pleased, the snake had been pleased to find an abundance of small rodents nearby and had decided to go out for the evening and feast. 

Harry decided to practice one of the spells he had become particularly interested in after looking at the book. It was quite a simple spell in theory, it was a healing spell, which according to the notations in the margins was quite unusual. Healing spells were notoriously light based, however there were a few healing spells that were dark based and either used the energy of others to heal oneself or involved blood magic. This one involved taking a drop of your own blood, infusing it with magic and drawing a rune for healing on the affected area. Harry thought it could be quite useful all things considered. 

After a while of flicking through the spell book, Harry looked up to see Veneno had returned and was peering over Harry's shoulder. 

_ “Where did you find such a book, young one?”  _

_ “A friend gave it to me.”  _ Harry replied, letting Veneno coil around his shoulders. 

_ “Who would be willing to hand over a spell book from the Black library. So much power. These spells, the Black’s are notorious for them.”  _

_ “What's so special about the Blacks?”  _

_ “They're a very old and powerful family. Feared but respected. Of course there's the madness rumours, but they shouldn't be believed and their library of dark magic knowledge and you know one little one… somehow.”  _

_ Harry tilted his head to one side and furrowed his brows, “I don't think I know one.”  _

_ “Young one, I don't think you're that naive. Nobody but a Black would've ever had access to this” _

“Magdalena Agnes Black,” Harry muttered, reading from the inner cover of the book, “Maggie… Maggie, goddammit. It's not even an alias… it's just a nickname.  _ How did I not notice yesterday? Why didn't she tell me before?”  _

_ “We all overlook things child, especially when it comes to loved ones. Perhaps you had better have a conversation with your Miss Black soon.”  _

_ “I suppose,”  _ Harry yawned, stretching his arms above his head. 

_ “Now is the time of rest,”  _ Veneno hissed softly, nudging his head in the direction of the bed. Harry nodded, stowed away the spell book and clambered into bed. Veneno coiled up on Harry's chest underneath the blankets. That night, despite the difficulties of the day, Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face. He had a new friend and confidant and for once Harry felt safe falling asleep in the cupboard under the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sadly do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J K Rowling... I just like writing fanfiction.


	4. Slytherins and Swingsets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning for violence at the beginning of the chapter it's nothing particularly graphic, but just a heads up. I hope you enjoy regardless. <3

Harry was rudely awoken to a heavy pounding on his cupboard door, had he overslept? A quick glance to the clock in the corner assured Harry that he hadn't. It was an hour before even Harry was expected to be up, yet the banging continued. Harry sat up sharply in bed, rousing Veneno from his sleep. The snake hissed moodily at having been woken but tightened his grip around Harry's arm when he heard the banging. 

_ “Is it the Gluttonous human, young one?” _ Veneno murmured, his tongue whipping at the the air. 

_ “I’m not sure… but probably. If he comes in, hide.”  _ Harry replied with a shudder, his eyes fixed on the trembling door. 

_ “Why can I not protect you from pain?”  _ Veneno seethed, looking up at Harry as if he had been slighted in some way. 

_ “I don't have anywhere else to go and I don't think I can explain a dead body.”  _ Harry muttered. Veneno didn't seem satisfied with the answer, but seemed to accept Harry's words. 

_ “If you change your mind, I will strike as soon as you ask.” _ Veneno’s fangs gleamed in the light of the fiery sunrise. Harry smiled softly before running his fingers over Veneno’s head which elicited a small hiss of approval from the snake. After a moment, Harry uncoiled Veneno from his arm and placed his in his dresser drawer, not wanting the snake to be hurt if his Uncle figured out how to use a doorknob. 

Harry settled himself on the edge of his bed, balling his fists into his scratchy bedsheets. It wasn't the best distraction from the mounting anxiety especially as he heard the doorknob begin to squeak from side to side. Then came the click. The door opened. Uncle Vernon stood there. In his hand was a bottle of foul smelling clear liquid. Alcohol. Harry could agree with Aunt Petunia on very little other than her policies against Uncle Vernon drinking. It didn't stop him, but Harry was grateful that he'd only get especially drunk every few weeks. Harry dreaded those days. He never knew when they'd come. If Harry was distracted enough he'd forget they were coming at all. Whether Harry remembered or not the days always came. 

“Boy!” Vernon shouted, his voice slurred as the alcohol sloshed around in the bottom of the bottle. Harry flinched away at first before his mind became hazy in the panic. Was Harry even a real person to begin with? Or was there simply just Boy... a punching bag with nothing to offer. 

“You freak! I don't know why we put up with your presence here. You're a leech boy. You take from us and expect us to put up with your freakishness!” Vernon seemed to notice Harry's lack of expression, “Do you need putting in your place, boy?” He barked out.

Harry began to shake, he was terrified and yet felt nothing. Harry could feel waves of panic pounding on the glass, but Harry was struggling to identify who's panic it was. Could it be his? There was little time to dwell on the matter as Harry felt himself become weightless. No… wait, Vernon had yanked him into the air by his collar. Harry could smell the alcohol on his breath and wanted to vomit. No matter how many times it happened, Harry couldn't bring himself to get used to it. 

Then it began, Vernon threw Harry against the wall like he was a paper doll. A torrent of punches and kicks hammered into Harry's ribs and chest. The pain that shot across Harry's torso was so great that he couldn't even scream, only wheeze and sob silently. Harry tried to retreat further inside his mind only to find that the pain was keeping him present and in that moment Harry wanted to disappear. The pain was all Harry could focus on. How much his body hurt. His ribs felt like they had shattered like china plates and his skin felt bruised and tender. 

Harry's cheeks were overwhelmingly hot and wet. His face has on fire. Was he crying? He wasn't allowed to do that. Vernon’s words above him were mostly incomprehensible. Slurred roars of rage from a slighted lion, no... a lion would have been kinder. 

The pummeling stopped. Harry felt relief flood through his hazy mind. Harry heard it before he felt it, the familiar smack of the leather against skin. His vision began to blacken around the edges like a photograph smouldering in a fire. 

Eventually he heard a shrill voice screeching. The beating stopped and as Harry glanced to the side he saw Petunia shouting at Vernon and pointing at Harry. Harry couldn't really make out what she was saying, something about school, alcohol and disappointment. Harry gave up on listening and slumped further onto the floor. Harry assumed Vernon had been sent out. Harry felt his aunt’s slender hands wrap around his waist in an attempt to pick him up, Petunia wasn't the strongest so it was more of a drag. When Harry was placed onto his bed he sank into the cool fabric in a daze and felt blankets being pulled over him. Sometimes, Aunt Petunia could be ok, Harry thought. Vaguely Harry felt something cold and damp press to his forehead and the last thing Harry remembered before drifting to sleep was cool water pouring down his throat. 

***

When Harry woke up he immediately noticed the ache throughout his body and the stinging of his back. There was a familiar cool press against Harry's wrist that kept him tethered to reality. As Harry looked down he could tell that Veneno was asleep soundly. Harry looked to the side and noticed a small corked bottle on the side table. With a note taped to the side. 

_ Drink this. It should help. Don't mention this later. -Petunia  _

Harry looked at the bottle filled with a suspect green liquid. Harry assured himself that his aunt wasn't trying to poison him, it'd be too much hassle and she would rather send him to an orphanage than kill him. Harry uncorked the bottle and took a swig, he grimaced slightly at the taste before drinking the rest. Sitting himself up, Harry noted that he was beginning to feel marginally better, a feeling that began to increase over time. Harry checked the time and noticed that it was 5am. Either Harry had gone back in time or Harry had slept through the entirety of the day before. The second option seemed more likely. Harry had become quite good at magic for someone his age, but time travel seemed very far beyond him and he still had the wounds from what Harry assumed was the day before. If so, it would be the weekend and Harry would be free to see Maggie. Harry didn't know where Maggie lived but he did know that she enjoyed relaxing in the playpark, since she hadn't seen many of the children's rides that muggles had invented.

Harry looked briefly at his reflection in the window, the bruises on him had faded greatly or had become non existent but the dull ache in his back told him that he probably would have some more scars. 

While Harry got dressed, he questioned how his Aunt Petunia had managed to get her hands on such a potion. His aunt disapproved of all freakish things, although she had always had a higher tolerance to it than Vernon, considering that her sister was a witch it made sense. However, his mother was a muggleborn and Aunt Petunia was definitely a muggle, so where had she got that potion from? It wasn't like she had connections, or even liked magical people. Harry was confused, but pushed the thoughts from his mind as he focused on Maggie. 

When Harry was dressed and as presentable as he could make himself he slipped the bottle into his jacket pocket and turned to the kitchen. 

Harry rather enjoyed cooking when there was a wide selection of ingredients to choose from, he found that he could cook up some interesting creations when he was feeling ok. Out of all of Harry's chores, cooking was the one he enjoyed the most. Harry decided to make pancakes with bacon and eggs and by the time he was finished he could already hear Petunia descending the stairs. 

Aunt Petunia looked tired and slightly jittery as she sat down to eat, giving Harry a small nod of acknowledgment. Harry took the potion bottle out of his pocket and handed it to his aunt. She frowned at him before stowing it away in her dressing gown pocket. 

“Thank you.” Harry said softly, while Petunia glared at him. 

“Don't get used to it.” Petunia grumbled, while poking at her eggs. 

“Aunt Petunia, I'm going out in a bit, it's the weekend and I've done all my chores.” Harry said, trying to sound confident. 

“Where to?” Petunia asked. Harry started slightly, she’d never asked that before. 

“To the park.”

“Alright, be back for dinner. Vernon will probably be coherent enough by then to wonder where you are.” Petunia grumbled. Harry gave her a small smile. His aunt then pressed a few pounds into his hand with a nod and returned to her breakfast. 

Harry grabbed a sun hat, pulled on some battered blue trainers and bounded into the bright morning sunlight. The warmth pressed against Harry's skin and made his bones feel lighter, as a soft hiss came from his sleeve, Harry realised he wasn't the only one enjoying it.  _ Oh… _ Harry realised that he was going to have to explain Veneno to Maggie, wait… should he be calling her Magdalena? Harry wasn't sure, but Harry knew that hiding things from her never went well. Maggie may have been quite laid back and sweet, but she was, at her core, a Slytherin. With a huff, Harry stroked Veneno to try and calm his whirring thoughts.  _ “Are we to meet your Maggie now?” _

_ “Yes, hopefully.”  _ Harry said, running hand through his hair and began to wander toward the park.

The swings were, without a doubt, Harry's favourite. The chain's were slightly rusty, the frame was an obnoxious yellow that kind of made his eyes hurt, but it was all worth it. If Harry pushed himself high enough it almost felt like he was flying and it was the best feeling he'd ever experienced. Harry let his feet drag gently against the concrete and he shut his eyes softly. 

A little while after Maggie told Harry about magic, she'd taught him how to recognise her magical signature if he was ever in trouble. Harry found it very difficult especially since, unlike Maggie, he wasn't magically sensitive. Luckily, if he pushed his magic around enough he could find the fiery blue that encompassed Maggie, though she was very hard to not notice no matter whether Harry looked for her physically or magically. 

Harry’s head was beginning to hurt so he stopped and let himself lean backwards on the swing. Harry wasn't sure how long he stayed there but he felt a tap on his forehead and saw Maggie's face glaring at him. 

“You could've just come to look for me kiddo, I'm getting a migraine now.”

“Wasn't I gentle enough?” Harry said tilting his head to one side. Maggie sighed with a smile, sitting down on the swing next to him. 

“Hopefully delicacy will be something you'll learn over time, unless you're aiming for Gryffindor?” Maggie murmured, rubbing her temples slowly. 

“Being in Hogwarts would be good enough for me,” Harry said looking towards Maggie, “I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Huh? Go on then, I'm an open book,” Maggie said with a giggle. 

“All lies!” Harry laughed, “But really I wanted to ask, why didn't you tell me that you're a Black and about your family?” 

“Well… I was hoping you wouldn't be so curious, but I'm not going to lie to you. My family are very dark leaning, while I don't think many of them are bad people, they know a lot of very evil people. People who would… like very much to not have you living. My family aren't particularly fond of you either. We'd both be in bad situations if word got out that we were, in any way, associated. It’d be bad for you too, nobody light would want to think that you'd been in contact with a family they seem to hate. Especially with what happened to Si- with my family. So I thought it'd be easier if you didn't even know who my family were.” 

Harry furrowed his brow, Maggie's trains of thought were often far too lengthy. Harry supposed it made sense in a way, but he would have understood if she'd just told him. Maggie was the only reason he'd even known about who he was and the magical world, everyone else always kept secrets from him, it seemed like Maggie wasn't the exception. 

“I know I’ve been a bit bloody stupid and I know this probably won't make sense but there are things I can't tell you, Harry, and I'm so sorry. You're just a kid and it's not fair what our world wants to shove onto you. I'm a Slytherin at the end of day, even if I'm not at Hogwarts, and I have plans that you can absolutely get mixed up in. Even if I have a bad way of showing it, I care about you a lot,” Maggie murmured shifting uncomfortably on the swing while staring at her lace up boots, as if they had suddenly become the most fascinating pair of shoes to ever exist. 

“I don't really get it Mags, but I want to be your friend and I want to keep learning magic with you. So can we try and work together?” Harry looked at Maggie’s soft grey eyes, hopefully.

“Thank you, Harry.” Maggie said with a smile, reaching out and wrapping her black lace clad arms around the small boy’s frame. 

“Please don't keep secrets from me though, Mags,” Harry mumbled, resting his head on Maggie's shoulder. Maggie ruffled his hair and sighed. 

“I can't make you any promises, but I'll try and not keep you in the dark. Harry, when you go to Hogwarts I know it's not for a while but I want you to remember two things for me. Number one, if you ever need my help or want to see me, use the floo and ask for 12 Grimmauld Place. The library there is yours. Number 2, no matter what, never fully trust a Slytherin. The house of ambition and cunning is filled with people who's wants will not ever be overpowered, you make allies there and rarely friends.” 

“You're a Slytherin though, Mags.” 

“Exactly. Imagine a house filled with people who want things as much as I do. I doubt many people would care what they had to do with you if you stood between them and the ultimate prize.” Maggie looked at him gently.

“So I can't trust you?” Harry felt his eyes filling with tears which Mags quickly wiped away for him. 

“I'm telling you this because I actually care for you Harry, trust a Slytherin when you know they have nothing to gain from hurting you or betraying you. So never, when it really comes down to it, never trust me.” Maggie said, her voice cracking slightly. Harry nodded, slowly, feeling very confused and dazed. 

“It's gotten awfully gloomy, hasn't it?” Maggie sighed, “How about I paint your nails for you?” 

“I'd like that,” Harry nodded. While Maggie turned her back he felt Veneno’s tongue flick against his wrist, reminding him of the snake’s presence. Harry felt his mouth open to tell Maggie about his new friend, before snapping it shut again.  _ Never trust me.  _

Maggie sat on the grass and beckoned for Harry, waving a bottle of black nail polish in the air. Maggie was far better at painting nails than Harry was and Harry always found that it'd help calm him down. Harry decided that he definitely needed to calm down so he flopped onto the grass next to Maggie. Maggie opened the bottle and began to slowly paint Harry's nails. 

“Hey Harry, if you need a book for magic or anything, ask me, I'll give you it.”

“Why do you keep helping me Mags?” 

“Because I know that if you want to go to Hogwarts, you're going to need to be strong.” Maggie said with a grimace. Harry scrunched his nose up, nothing ever seemed to be easy for him. Tilting his head up to the sun, Harry wondered if maybe, for once, everything would go right for him. It seemed unlikely but in his chest their still lay a silvery spark of hope.


	5. Broomsticks and Birthdays

Harry had been looking forward to his ninth birthday, while his eighth had been a disaster, Aunt Petunia had promised to let him spend the day with ‘that magical lot’ to hopefully make the day bearable for them all. Harry tried to block out the events as much as possible and his perpetual ‘floatiness’, as he had termed it, made the job 10 times easier. Aunt Petunia, Harry had discovered from his brief conversations with her, had been born a squib, which allowed her to brew potions and see a lot of goings on in the magical world, however it hadn't made her any kinder to wizards and witches. Jealousy was a very nasty thing. Sometimes, Aunt Petunia would even lend Harry her potion books and teach him simple information. Unfortunately, his aunt had very little patience and did not trust him with anything she owned.

For his birthday, Mags had agreed to take him for his first ride on a broom and _maybe_ teach him Quidditch. Therefore, when Harry awoke the morning of his ninth birthday he leapt out of bed bubbling with excitement.

Breakfast had become easier to make after Harry had a growth spurt so he'd come to enjoy the process even more. Although the Dursley’s remained predictable, only ever wanting bacon, eggs and sometimes toast if they were feeling particularly fancy. Harry plated the food up and sat on one of the stools waiting for his aunt to come down. Harry was grateful that, after the incident with Vernon, Aunt Petunia had been a lot kinder to him. She wasn't Harry's favourite person, but she was in Harry's top ten (not that it was much of an achievement considering Harry only knew about ten people).

When Aunt Petunia arrived downstairs Harry noticed she was carrying a small, chunky parcel in her hands. She passed it to Harry before sitting down to eat.

“Happy Birthday,” She said with a nod, “I think that Lily would have...approved of you.” Aunt Petunia’s voice caught slightly and so she decided to stop talking and start eating her bacon.

Harry had to fight the beaming smile that wanted to press its way onto his face, “Thank you,” Harry managed, knowing his aunt wouldn't want any more than that. While his aunt hadn't ever gotten on with his mother, Harry could feel that she was sincere.

“Are that magical lot still taking you out today?” Aunt Petunia asked, looking up at him.

“Yep. I’ll be going to meet them soon,” Harry said, standing up and holding the parcel to his chest.

“Good. Vernon and I will be taking Dudley out today. Don’t fall off your broomstick,” she said matter of factly. Harry smiled, his relationship with his aunt had always been confusing and strained, the improvement of it was hard to get used to, but Harry liked it. He might even begin to think that his aunt was worried about him, although she'd probably burn one of her potion books before telling him that.

The echoes of footsteps and shuffling could be heard coming from upstairs.

“You should leave now,” Petunia said, “Don't go getting into trouble.”

Harry hummed in confirmation with a small smile before grabbing a coat and heading out. It was summer of course, but Maggie said it could still get cold while flying.

Harry set himself down on the park bench where he was to meet Maggie and began to soak up the sun. Harry was looking forward to having someone to talk to, Veneno had been out hunting for most of the week since he was growing surprisingly big and even with the glamour on him, he was obviously not an average English snake (he also didn't want to go flying) and Maggie had been very busy scheming. Maggie never told him what her plans were, just that she was very likely to end up in Azkaban if she was found out. Harry chose to stay out of it after learning that (for a Slytherin Maggie had a very bad sense of self preservation). She'd also returned to Hogwarts half way through her third year and while she owled him all the time complaining about how far behind she was, Harry still missed her.

“Hey there, birthday boy!” a cheerful voice chirped next to Harry. Harry jumped. _Where'd she come from?_

“Gee, still no self awareness? Is my teaching that bad?” Maggie laughed, ruffling Harry's already wild hair.

“No, you’re a great teacher. I just don't have a sixth sense like you. Kind of makes stuff harder,” Harry said standing next to Maggie while tightly gripping his parcel. Maggie had decided to wear one of her classic long black dresses, with loose sleeves and chunky lace up boots. _How did she not boil to death?_ Maggie looked down at Harry, she was still unnervingly tall, it was like she never stopped growing, and gave him a smile.

“What's that you've got there?” she asked, pointing to the parcel.

“My aunt got me a present for my birthday,” Harry replied as they started to walk.

“Damn. It's a Christmas miracle,” Maggie said with a laugh.

“Really?” Harry deadpanned.

“Of course!” Maggie said, pulling Harry along behind her while Harry sighed.

“How are we getting to yours anyway? Don't you live in London?”

“I forget that you're barely in touch with wizarding culture,” Maggie sighed, “We're going to floo, remember?”

“I think you've mentioned it before, but I've never done it,”Harry replied, “Wait is there a place for it here?”

“Well yes, wizards would never just let themselves be cut off, especially in a muggle area. I mean there's apparation but it's complicated and there's restrictions,” Maggie said, “Oh, we're here.”

Harry looked up to see a large glass building, surrounded by bags of compost and small potted plants, “Mags, we're at the garden centre. Is this really where wizards are flooing to?”

“Well...yes and no. Wizards can floo here since it's the only place in the area with one, but they aren't exactly flocking to visit, it's mainly muggleborns and the occasional ministry worker. It's pretty clever though, hidden in plain sight.”

“I suppose so.”

The inside of the garden centre was humid and smelt like damp soil and there were wooden benches as far as the eye could see stacked with plants that Harry couldn't name even if he tried (it was a miracle he managed to keep the flowerbed well kept). Dotted randomly around the building were displays of dangerous looking gardening tools that Harry was wary of, the glinting, sharp edges of some looked very prepared to slice him in two.

Maggie looked to be scanning the shop for employees and, upon spotting one, dressed in a neon red shirt and black slacks, lead Harry towards one.

“Hello sir, I was wondering if you could direct me to the sweet peas, unless Tina is around?” Maggie asked with a smile. The man, Eric, Harry read off his name tag, paused momentarily in thought.

“Would you happen to have anything for Tina?” Eric asked, scanning Harry and Maggie, trying to figure out their intentions.

“Well of course, blue chrysanthemums.” Maggie said with a nod. Eric nodded in response.

“Follow me then, we wouldn't want to hold you up,” he replied, leading them towards the back room, “She’s through there, I hope you have your flowers ready.” Eric muttered as he opened the door.

The back room was well lit and filled with pots of flowers, covering the one small table and hanging from baskets attached to the ceiling. The room smelt strangely sweet and was filled with smoke. Perched on the side of the table was a small woman? Harry wasn't sure if she was entirely human, she had almost translucent skin, white blonde hair and looked fully grown, despite barely being taller than Harry. Harry would have described her as ethereal if it hadn't been for the poorly rolled cigarette (Harry wasn't too sure about that one either) she was smoking and the nasty scowl on her face.

Maggie fumbled with her bag for a moment before retrieving a bouquet of blue chrysanthemums and handing them to Tina who finally seemed to acknowledge their presence.

“Really with this bloody artificial shit again?” the small woman shouted in a rough gravelly voice that was jarring to hear from such a small magical looking person. Putting out her cigarette and standing with a grunt, Tina threw the bouquet behind her and put her hand out expectantly.

“They were the password for today, not much I could do,” Maggie said absentmindly, dropping a few galleons into Tinas outstretched hand. Maggie turned to Harry and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Take a pinch of floo powder and throw it into the fireplace, then step in and say number 12 Grimmauld Place. The pronunciation is important,” Maggie explained, trying her best to ensure Harry wasn't lost in transit.

“Ok, I get it Mags,” Harry said, reassuring the older girl. Maggie gave him a smile before taking a handful of silvery floo powder and throwing it into the fire.

“Number 12 Grimmauld Place,” Her voice rang out clearly as she disappeared into the green flames. Tina then offered the bowl to Harry with a scowl. Harry took a deep breath as he gathered the powder between his fingers and threw it into the fire.

“Number 12 Grimmauld Place,” Harry said, feeling the world be pulled out from under him like the tablecloth in a bad magicians act. Harry couldn't be sure how long the travel went on for but he could say that it was enough time for him to never want to do it again. Harry fell with a thud onto a scratchy embroidered rug and looked up in time to see Maggie suppressing a grin.

“The floo isn't for everyone,” she giggled, offering Harry a hand and helping him to his feet.

“I can't wait to learn to apparate,” Harry groaned.

“It's really not much better. Mother sometimes apparates us and it's just as uncomfortable,”

Harry looked around momentarily before seeing his parcel and picking it up. _I hope that wasn't too fragile._ “Mags, are your parents home then?”

“No. Mother and father are... at Gringotts, they shouldn't be back for a while. Kreacher might pop in now and then to keep an eye on us, mother and father always used to make him... Aunt Walburga’s here in a way too though she's not really one for casual conversation. If I bore you too much you could talk to Lady Dorea,” Maggie said.

“You have so many relatives.”

“I mean most of them are portraits and I can't remember how half of them are related to me. Anyways, let's play quidditch!” Maggie said with a smile.

Harry and Maggie set off out of the room and up a long twisting flight of stairs.

“Half breeds! Mudblood scum! Do you dare challenge the ancient and noble house of Black?” a screeching voice could be heard from above them.

Maggie sighed, “Isn't auntie just charming?”

When they reached the top of the stairs they saw a portrait of a small woman screaming at them. Maggie curtsied and pulled Harry down beside her, “I have a guest, Lady Walburga. We'll be upstairs and we will be sure not to disturb you.”

Walburga scowled, “Magdalena Agnes Black, are you to sully the house of Black by associating with half breeds? Look at the child, he dresses like a muggle and looks like he has never touched a hair brush. What good could he do for our name?” Harry was about to cut in, but Maggie spoke before he could.

“I assure you _auntie_ he is wonderful and a powerful ally, now if you will excuse us we have a game of quidditch to play.” Maggie said curtly. Walburga narrowed her eyes at Harry, but seemed to concede.

“Well, child, if you are to be seen associating with my household, you must fix your hair at the very least. Good day.” Walburga added, before Maggie pulled Harry up another flight of stairs and into an impossibly large room with a scarily high ceiling, green carpet and three large hoops on either side of it.

“I'm glad we got away before she could get too bad. Aunt Walburga can be alright most of the time, I promise, just as long as she thinks you're important.”

“Sure. Let's just play though,” Harry said, already tired of Walburga and excited to learn to play the sport Maggie loved.

“Aren't you going to open your present first?” Maggie asked.

“Oh yeah!” Harry said, sitting himself down of the floor, which was surprisingly soft and bouncy. As Harry's fingers tore through the brown paper he looked up at Maggie who was fumbling in a large brown cupboard near them. “Mags? How's this room so massive? It shouldn't be able to fit in your house.”

“There's a load of expansion charms on it, kind of like what's on my bag. Mother and father did them when I got on the quidditch team,” Maggie said, emerging from th cupboard with two broomsticks. Harry quickly finished unwrapping his gift to find two thick books and two bottles of nail varnish, with the note attached just saying, ‘Happy Birthday, here's some of your own so you stop taking mine.’ Harry laughed lightly at that, at least there was an attempt made to be friendly. Harry pulled his coat on while Maggie handed him a broom.

“That's a good idea, there's way too many cooling charms in here. They’re for realism or something,” she laughed, “What are those books about?”

“There’s ‘101 useful potions’,” Harry read, “and ‘Potion making shortcuts’,”

“Nice. Potion making shortcuts is a nightmare to try and get these days. For Hogwarts everything gets taught the long way so most shops don't sell it,” Maggie sighed. _I wonder why they don't just teach the faster way?_ Harry placed his gifts on the floor so they wouldn't get damaged while he was flying.

“Right then Harry, the first thing you're going to want to do is put your broom on the floor.”

“But you just gave it to me,” Harry said, confused.

“Trust in the process. I am a wise, masterful quidditch chaser,” Maggie said smirking.

Harry placed his broom on the floor, “You're enjoying this way too much.”

It didn't take Harry too long to get his broom to rise into his hand and take off. The real difficulty he had was when Maggie began listing the rules. Harry felt like his brain was turning to sludge and like he was sinking into the floor, it made it hard to concentrate. Luckily, Maggie let him have some of her thin black bracelets to wear and play with, which helped Harry feel a little more real. Eventually Maggie just gave up on the complicated explanation and asked Harry which position he wanted to play first.

“Keeper or chaser? There's only two of us so we'll take turns,”

“I'll try chaser I suppose.” Harry said, hoping that the activity would be engaging enough for him to enjoy himself.

Harry and Maggie flew into the air with Harry practicing catching the quaffle and scoring with it. It was in some ways monotonous, but the feeling of flying made Harry feel alive. He was soaring and free, after all he couldn't sink into the ground if he wasn't touching it.

***

The game ended 220:60, Maggie having won. Although Harry was very proud of himself for what he had managed to do and Maggie had said that he was a natural. Maggie let him spend some time in the library before she had to take him back. The Black library was brimming with dark magic and raw power, even Harry with very little ability to sense magic could feel it pressing against his skin as he entered, while Maggie as she stood beside him was practically shaking and her eyes were almost glowing. Harry decided to give her a moment as magical sensitivity was an odd thing and Mags sometimes needed a moment to process all the spells she could see and feel.

Harry browsed the many thick tomes in a cramped nook of the library: dark curses, runic guides, blood magic… Becoming a dark wizard, _what's that about?_ Harry pulled the book off of the shelf and traced the golden lettering with his fingers, entranced by the feeling of the soft leather beneath his fingertips and the occasional flicker or dark magic. Harry quickly stuffed the book into his coat pocket.

“An interesting path you're taking there,” a soft voice came from beside Harry. He looked up to see a portrait of a smiling blonde woman, with the golden plaque beneath it stating ‘Dorea Potter (née: Black)’ _This must be the Lady Dorea that Mags was talking about._ Harry bowed slowly to her, like Mags had to Lady Walburga.

“Hello Lady Dorea, it's nice to meet you,” Harry said, wishing he had asked Mags how to behave around posh purebloods.

“Likewise little one although you've taken up a rather frowned upon interest, ”

“Do you think it's bad though?” Harry asked, clutching the book in his pocket.

“Of course not, it's foolish to brand magic in such a way. I am merely a painting, however,” Dorea said with a wave of her hand. Harry nodded along.

“What is it that I should call you, child?” Dorea asked, smiling gently.

“Harry.”

“Just Harry?” Dorea frowned slightly.

Harry thought momentarily about revealing himself to her, but decided that she seemed trustworthy enough and also seemed to be a relative of his, “Harry Potter.”

  
  



	6. Friendship and Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, I've been struggling a lot with it and this is the last chapter before Harry turns 11 and is introduced to the Wizarding World properly, so I wanted to get it right and create some sort of suspense.

“Family, then? How lovely and what an interesting coincidence, I've just been hearing about you from Phineas. You are quite a remarkable child, Harry,” Dorea said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Harry paused, unsure how to continue, “Who's Phineas, though?”

“Oh, of course you wouldn't know, he was the headmaster of Hogwarts many years ago and now he's stuck as a portrait on Albus’s wall. It's saddening. Albus was going on and on, darling, he really wants to know more about you. Don't worry though, Phineas wouldn't tell him you've been here.”

Harry sighed in relief, “That's good...I haven't heard great things about him.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would have. He's become very detached over the years and caught up in his own strategizing and games. Likely those games will involve you at some point, with your reputation. I offer you my sympathy, dear,” Dorea replied.

“I wish they wouldn't,” Harry sighed, clenching his fingers around the dark magic book nestled in his pocket.

“That would obviously be preferable, dear. Unfortunately, Albus is unlikely to be deterred,” Lady Dorea sighed, “Be careful though, at Hogwarts. Remember, dear, don't trust anyone and be prepared for what our Magdelena has planned.” Dorea said, with a knowing smile.

“Umm, yeah?” Harry said, slightly confused, “I've got to get back to Mags now. I'll see you again soon, Lady Dorea. It was nice to meet you,” Harry returned her smile, as best he could, while backing away. _What is Mags up to?_

***

Later that evening, Harry settled down on his bed with the book he had taken from the Black library and began to read.

_The path to dark witchcraft and wizardry is not one to be undertaken lightly as it can prevent the use of light magick and lead to persecution by the ignorant. However, those with an affinity and passion for the Dark Arts will benefit greatly from the connection to one's magick and the understanding it can bring._

_There are many misconceptions surrounding dark magick and its practitioners. A dark wizard is not simply a wizard who practises dark magick. Many grey wizards practise dark magick, but never perform the rituals to declare themselves and so remain at an inbetween point. For some this choice allows for balance and use of other lighter magicks while others decide that the benefits of true dark magick are worthwhile._

_Joining The Dark is best performed during Samhain where connections can be better be made to dark ancestors through the veil and dark magick is at it's strongest. Please see page 12 for the ritual that you and your mentor must perform._

Harry lowered the book. _Mentor? Do I need one?_ He felt confusion bubble in his head and reached out to Veneno for comfort. The snake was rarely around and so Harry liked to enjoy his presence when he could.

 _“Vee, what do you think of dark wizards?”_ Harry hissed softly as the black snake curled around his shoulders.

 _“They are strong and respect the old ways. I am dark so feel connected to them. Many humans are foolish and hate the wizards for their magic, as they have used it to harm. They generalise dark magic and dark creatures. I do not. Dark wizards are noble to me and powerful,”_ The snake replied, shifting his cool body tighter around Harry. Harry nodded along with a smile, agreeing with the snake.

 _“Me too. I was thinking about becoming one, since Mags is and all,”_ Harry began to fiddle with the scraggly hem of his shirt, nervously. Harry was still trying to decide on the right path for him, he felt that the darker arts called to him and wanted desperately to feel a greater connection to his magic. However, Harry didn't want to disappoint those who so desperately wanted him to be a symbol for justice and defeat evil. Not that he couldn't be both, although he didn't think that was allowed considering all their prejudices.

 _“Master, it is a noble path but you should consider this further. Your Magdelena cannot be the only reason you undertake such a change. Also, I know you do not wish to hear this from me again, I do not trust the girl. She tells you herself that she is not worthy of such esteem, yet I feel you are too lenient with her. She is a powerful ally yes, but she has other allegiances pledged above you,”_ Veneno flicked his tongue against Harry's cheek in an attempt to be comforting.

 _“I guess you're right, Vee. She's just been so good to me. She was my first friend and I can't help but see the best in her,”_ Harry sighed, putting his book aside and lying back in bed. Veneno slid across his stomach and coiled by his feet. Feeling rather dejected and confused, Harry drifted into an uneasy sleep.

***

Days passed before Harry decided to write to Magdalena. He had made a decision. She was either going to tell him what she was planning or he would cut off all correspondence with her. Harry cared for her greatly, but hated not knowing what sort of criminal plots he could be unknowingly involved in just by being around her.

Veneno was a great source of comfort to Harry, he felt that he would at least have someone he could trust left. Furthermore, his aunt had taken to giving him slightly irregular potions lessons which gave him something to focus on. Writing essays on the different applications of the wideye potion certainly took his mind off of Magdelena still not responding after four whole days.

A tap on the window roused Harry from his dazed state while trying to add an additional five inches to his essay. There stood Magdelena’s barn owl, looking down on him, irritated at being kept waiting.

Harry scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over his chair in his rush to open the window. Thankfully his aunt was in the other room, she would have lost her mind upon seeing something with the potential to shed in her front room.

The owl nipped lightly at Harry’s hands before allowing him to untie the letter tied to his leg. The owl seemed anxious to fly away, as though he could sense Veneno in the other room. Therefore, Harry began to hurriedly tear the envelope open and read Magdelena’s letter.

_Dear H,_

_I am unable to tell you the details of my plans, as I fear for what would befall you if you were to become involved. There is little safety for you being you, but there is even less with your associations to myself and blood. I have already attempted to keep you safe from there being public associations between the two of us._

_I selfishly enjoy your presence and would like to continue our correspondence. You may eventually become intertwined in my plans and grow to loathe me for them, however I hope that until that time comes we can continue our friendship._

Harry sighed as he looked down the page, Mags tended to write far too much, although he appreciated her thoughts. While feeling slightly guilty he skipped towards the end of the second page.

_It is with a heavy heart that I choose to tell you what I plan. By reading on, you choose to become involved. If you decide after reading this that you never want to associate yourself with me, I will understand and find another person to help guide you on the dark path. Anyhow enough procrastinating._

_I plan to break my_ _cousin out of Azkaban._

_Yours M._

Harry stared at the letter for a few moments, wondering exactly how crazy his friend was. _Wait...which cousin?_


	7. Excitement and Escapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp I haven’t posted in so long. A few months ago I got out of an abusive relationship and I have been working up to getting back to things I enjoy. So expect some more updates if you want to stick around.

Harry received his third Hogwarts letter from an exasperated barn owl. The owl dropped the letter at his feet before hopping onto the windowsill to glare at him some more. It wasn’t exactly his fault that Vernon had burned the first two. Fortunately, Aunt Petunia had managed to get him to come around to the idea. After all, it meant they’d only have to have him home for the summer, a prospect that Vernon relished in.

Harry skimmed excitedly over his letter not giving the equipment list a second glance upon seeing his own name emblazoned on the letter. It was finally happening, the moment his entire life had been leading up to. Everything was riding on this… and Harry was just the slightest bit afraid. What if they hated him? What if his dark magic and weird brain drove everyone away? He’d always have Veneno he supposed, but the snake wasn’t exactly equivalent to human companionship. He loved Veneno, but he was hoping to finally have human friends that were his own age. It didn’t help that his relationship with Maggie had been so strained.

Almost two years had passed since Maggie had revealed her plans and things still hadn’t returned to the way they were before. Harry had realised quickly that they weren’t going to go back to the way they were. He hadn’t spoken with her since going to Grimmauld a month prior to pick up some books to take to Hogwarts. She had reassured him that she would still oversee and act as mentor for his Declaration to the Dark ritual despite the growing distance between them. However, it felt as though the rituals were the only thing keeping her from cutting him off entirely.

Harry shook his head sharply. I need to focus. As if sensing his displeasure, Veneno flicked his tongue against Harry’s forearm as a reminder of his presence.

 _“Calm yourself Master, there are greater things to concern yourself with. Soon you shall gather supplies for the school of magicals and then you shall be amongst those of your kind,”_ Veneno hissed lightly at Harry in an attempt at comfort.

_“I know. I can’t help but worry, y’know? There’s so much riding on this with all the eyes that are gonna be on me.”_

_“That is exactly why you cannot afford to lose composure Master. Show no weakness to those who wish to use you in their games, then they will be caught unawares when you use them in yours,”_ if animals could be sorted then Veneno would certainly be a Slytherin. Harry supposed that there must have been for the serpent being the house symbol.

 _“Yes, I understand. I can’t afford to lose this opportunity to assure myself the upper hand in whatever schemes I’m walking into,”_ Harry sighed. He tried to focus and found himself able to somewhat connect with his surroundings as he stroked Veneno’s scales.

***

“So will you come with me auntie?” Harry asked, looking up at Petunia innocently. Harry had no qualms using the innocent act on his aunt. His childhood had been a hell that she could have prevented and while she had made some effort to make amends it couldn’t make up for the past. However, Petunia also knew this and appreciated that for each other they were means to an end first and family second. Their odd dynamic worked well enough for the both of them and Petunia could almost admit that she cared somewhat for her nephew.

“I suppose it would be an opportunity to buy some more exotic potions ingredients and I can’t trust you to go anywhere alone,” Petunia recalled the time Harry had gone to the park and she had to retrieve him five hours later as he was sat unmoving on the swing set in a sort of fugue state. Frankly she’d been tempted to give him multiple calming draughts in that moment, but wasn’t willing to deal with potentially overdosing her nephew and making the situation worse. Harry now carried two calming draughts with him at any time and had an entire boxful to take to Hogwarts. Wait- was she actually worrying for him?

“Alright I’ll take you. It’ll have to be at the weekend though as Vernon is taking Dudley out to watch a football match and shouldn’t be back for a while,” Petunia continued after a while.

“Thank you auntie,” Harry smiled with ease before returning to his room to write out a letter to confirm his attendance to send off with the owl.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_   
_  
I am pleased to be able to accept my place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, although I must confess to knowing very little of it due to my muggle upbringing. I hope to see you on 1st September and I look forward to getting more in touch with the wizarding world, having been largely cut off from it for my entire life._

_Kind regards,_   
_Harry James Potter_

_“How does it sound Vee?”_

_“Naïve to a degree that isn’t conspicuous, sweet and not at all schemeing.”_

_“Good. I hope this letter manages to make its way into the right hands”_

***

Magdalena Agnes Black would never have considered herself conceited, but in this instance she felt she deserved to be. 

Breaking into Azkaban had been far too easy. At the end of her fifth year, aged sixteen, she had managed it. The planning stage, which she had thought would be the least of her worries had turned out to be the hardest part. Slytherin was truly the perfect fit.

Well, identifying a ministry inspector due to go to Azkaban had been difficult, but obliviating him and his family of his position had been far too easy. His stupefied state had made taking some hair for polyjuice a piece of cake.

Polyjuice was never been a foolproof method especially with the added component of Azkaban security so Magdalena was trying her best to emanate the mans magical signature to throw off any suspicion. So far even the ministry worker she was travelling with suspected nothing.

The thestral drawn carriage drew to a halt at the shoreline across from Azkaban prison and Magdalena’s companion gave her a nod. At the beginning of their journey, she hadn’t been sure if the compulsion ritual would be entirely necessary, however she was now sure that she would have to go through with it.

Magdalena wasn’t enjoying messing with the lives of the people caught up in her plans (in fact the schemes made her feel like a certain old twat), but she knew that it was for the good of her family and for the good of the wizarding world as a whole. She had refrained from harming these people and had chose to only obliviate or use reversible mental spells and compulsions.

She needed a thestral for her plans and the thestral she planned to use was currently harnessed to the carriage with a ministry worker on it. She’d been studying undetectable mental compulsions for months and had found the perfect one. A sleep compulsion that would leave the target asleep temporarily for a maximum of two hours and cause them to wake up feeling refreshed with no suspicion of spell work (Magdalena felt as though it had been created with much more illicit purposes in mind, having found it in a book with spells bordering black magic).

“Eyes will close, the mind will rest and thou shalt not awake, a sleep like death. Once time has spun the its threads around thee, awaken with eyes brightened and blinded.”

The mans head lolled as he fell into a deep slumber and Magdalena sighed in relief. She grasped the thestral by its reigns and stroked her hand across its head. She wished there was more time for her to build up trust with the animal, but time was a very valuable resource to her.

She mounted the creature gently before detaching it from the carriage and giving it direction to take flight. The thestral spread its wings and took flight, seemingly enjoying the freedom it had been granted.

Sirius was held about as high up as one could be... in a tower surrounded by dementors. The patronus charm was not one Magdalena was particularly confident with, however with her having put off her third and final dark path ritual she should still be able to perform it. The thestral seemed unaffected by dementors which was a blessing and a source of jealousy. She could already feel the chill in the air and electric sparks shooting up her spine.

Then she saw one. A dementor. She could feel a sense of desperation take hold of her as she began to hear the shrieks of Aunt Walburga and her mother’s sobs... the icy cold water making its way into her throat as she- Sirius. She had to think of him. After all he had made her early years bearable whenever she had been allowed to visit him or her parents wanted to palm her off onto somebody.

There was one time where she’d been crying after her parents had gone away again and left her in the care of some distant relatives and Sirius had come to rescue her. She must have only been about six. He sat her on his knee and dried her tears before giving her the biggest and brightest smile.

“Don’t worry if they aren’t here, after all you have the best cousin in the whole wide world and I’m never ever going to leave you. I’m always in your corner kid. Now where was that spell book we were working on?”

The Potters had looked after her for that week, since that was who Sirius was staying with and it was heaven.

Now it was her turn to make sure he wasn’t left alone. He was the only family who hadn’t let her down.

“Expecto patronum!” She shouted and a large snake shot forth from her wand, glowing and expelling all dementors in the general vicinity. She looked down at her other arm where she had drawn as accurate of a dark mark as she could. If she was going to do a prison break every piece of evidence was to point as far from her as possible.

The thestral flew forth and she caught sight of the window near Sirius’s cell and flew closer. This was happening. She was going to get her family back. Then she felt a hand grab her from the thestral and knock her unconscious.

Well maybe not everything was going to plan.


	8. Cousins and Curses

“Hello,” Magdalena said with a shiver as she woke up, trying to keep up the facade. She was under polyjuice as a middle aged man and radiating a very accurate dupe of his magical signature. As she looked up at the death eaters surrounding her. In the cell next to her was a malnourished and shaking black dog... Sirius! It had been so long. So torturously long since she’d seen the only man who she considered family. 

Then her eyes fixed on her. Cousin Bellatrix. Of course she was there. Magdalena knew she would be. However, seeing her made it feel so much more real. A shiver shot down Maggie’s spine and her throat grew tight. Dear cousin Bella with her dark magic and sadistic tendencies. Up close Magdalena could see a striking similarity between the two of them and she felt sick. Bellatrix was the first to speak.

”Well well... I didn’t know ministry workers had taken to riding thestrals, or drawing the dark mark on themselves for that matter,” Bellatrix gave a raspy laugh, which her fellow death eaters echoed. 

“Change in protocol I suppose. And I can assure you that far worse than Azkaban will befall you if you don’t release me.” How long did she have on her polyjuice? Shit. Would she be better off if they knew who she was? Probably not. Why couldn’t she think. There was silence for a moment. Bellatrix began to laugh maddeningly. Why couldn’t she- 

“Maggie. Darling cousin Maggie. So grown up!” Well that answered one question. Not very long on the polyjuice. She must have been out for an hour...

”You look just like a true Black. Though not quite enough self preservation. What could a sweet little thing like you be doing here?” Bellatrix tittered, enjoying every second. In the darkness, Magdalena could pick out the faces of Dolohov, Rookwood and other Lestrange’s. Merlin she was in trouble. 

“Well I’m certainly not here for you,” Maggie said with as much venom as she could muster. 

“Oh you’re no fun, cousin! So dull. I thought you might have come around to us after so long!” 

“What should we do with her?” Dolohov muttered roughly. 

“So many options,” Bellatrix grinned manically. 

Magdalena’s mind was running at a mile a minute. She was desperate to get out of this unscathed and with Sirius. A dead Maggie couldn’t do anything for Sirius, or anyone for that matter. She wasn’t particularly inclined to go through the Cruciatus curse until they put her out of her misery. There had to be a plan that could have everything go her way. However, some things require sacrifice and Maggie certainly didn’t have the time to think up that perfect plan with Bellatrix Lestrange breathing down her neck. 

“I can get him back for you. If you let me take Sirius,” Magdalena blurted out. Why was that the best she could come up with? Surely they wouldn’t agree... she prayed they wouldn’t agree. 

“Do continue dear Maggie. Tell us all just what you’re willing to do. I’m dying to hear if it’s worth our time,” 

One of the Lestrange brothers piped up “How do we know she’s telling the truth. If she’s here for the blood traitor she surely isn’t one of us?” 

“Let her speak,” another piped up, “We cannot serve our Lord if he is wasting away.” 

Maggie took a shuddering breath, “I have the means to raise him with time. I have the power and I can learn the spells. If you let me take Sirius and keep him out of your war then you have my word.” 

“What an interesting opportunity has fallen into our laps this evening, what do you say Bellatrix?” Dolohov smiled. 

“You can’t take her on her word like that!” Angry voices shouted throughout the cell. The yelling continued for a while.

”Enough! Who said we’d take her at her word?” Bellatrix shouted. They grew silent before she continued, “Maggie dear, no Occlumency or our cousin is going to have a very nasty time,” 

Maggie barely had time to register Bellatrix’s words before, “Legilimens.”   
  


Maggie fought to keep her Occlumency shields down, they were the only thing that let her retain control over her magical sensitivity and they were very helpful when sharing a school with Dumbledore. It was a painful process to keep them from instinctually kicking in to protect her mind. She felt her thoughts being rifled by through ruthlessly. Thoughts of Dumbledore, her dark magic practice, the family, the outside world, her sincerity, Sirius, her schemes and... Harry! Oh God she’d forgotten she even knew him, and now Bellatrix knew that he trusted her. 

As Bellatrix left her mind, Magdalena looked up at her blearily. Bellatrix was smiling wildly. If this was the only way then Maggie would just have to adapt.

”We are very lucky today. Destiny and magic are on the side of the righteousness!” Bellatrix screamed and the death eaters cheered.

“How do we retain her loyalty?” The voice of Rookwood echoed around the cell, “I propose a blood pact,” He approached Bellatrix and whispered into her ear something additional, which Magdalena strained in vain to hear. 

Then it sank in. A blood pact. Merlin, she wasn’t even in her sixth year... when had any of this seemed like a good idea. Look where it had got her. Maggie steeled herself. There was no point in crying over spilled milk. She was there now and it was but another hurdle to overcome. After all, she had come for Sirius and she was going to be leaving with him one way or another. 

“That sounds perfect,” Magdalena stated, standing and bracing herself. Her legs didn’t shake one bit as she approached Bellatrix. There was that Black madness. Unafraid in the most bizarre situations even when she was in imminent danger and pledging herself to damn death eaters! 

“You have your wand on you I assume?” Rookwood asked. Magdalena nodded, unholstering it and making eye contact with Bellatrix who was grinning maniacally. There was no other choice now, no stalling. 

“Diffindo,” Magdalena cast, reluctantly passing her wand to Bellatrix who cast the same before retiring Maggie her wand. 

Maggie reached out her hand and felt Bellatrix’s clamp around it. Their blood intermingled. For the blood pact, detailed by the Black’s throughout their history one had to not only offer blood. You had to swear on whatever is most valuable. 

“Vow that you will let Sirius and I leave and won’t hurt him,” Maggie stated confidently. 

“I Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black, vow to allow Sirius and Magdalena Agnes Black free from this place unscathed and to leave Sirius Black unharmed from Death Eater activity. I swear this on my blood, my life and Lord Voldemort.” 

“Now you vow to raise Lord Voldemort within the next three years and pledge us your loyalty,” Bellatrix giggled. 

Magdalena now knew what she had to swear, but that didn’t make it anymore bearable, “I Magdalena Agnes Black, vow to raise Lord Voldemort within the next three years and pledge my loyalty to Bellatrix Lestrange née Black. I swear this on my blood, my life and Sirius Black.” 

Magic swirled about them as soon as Maggie completed the last word. Their blood droplets rose up and formed two vials. Bellatrix grabbed one from the air and Maggie grabbed the other. Sirius was safe and that was all that mattered... 

Even in his animagus form, Sirius looked distraught. Throughout the whole process, Maggie had refrained from looking at him. She was afraid he would shake her resolve and being a Slytherin, nothing would keep her from her goal. 

“Well then, don’t let us keep you Maggie dear. You have important matters to attend to. We wouldn’t want to draw any suspicion now,” Bellatrix said sharply. 

Maggie felt sick. This wasn’t a dream and she was getting Sirius back. The catch, however, was awfully painful. Could there have been a worse outcome? Yes. It didn’t mean that Maggie was grateful for the one that had come about. 

“Sisi, it’s time to go,” Maggie said, feeling exhausted as she gestured for the black dog to follow her. After a moment, he slipped between the bars and followed at her heel. 

Magdalena mounted the thestral, as death eaters cackled behind her. They sounded ready to hold a celebratory party in her honour. She had betrayed Harry. She had her beloved cousin back. She’d work the details out later. They had to get out of there before they changed their minds.

As Sirius leapt halfheartedly onto Maggie’s lap, the glare he gave her, even in his animagus form, assured her that they would be having a talk when she got home. 

The thestral took off and they flew across the water and over endless fields until the familiar patchwork of buildings took shape. London was coming closer. 

However, it seemed that Sirius couldn’t wait until they got back to Grimmauld. He transformed back from his animagus form and despite his underweight, shaky and overall weakened state, he still managed a loud and pained “What the fuck Maggie! By Merlin what’s wrong with you?” 

“Nice to see you too, Sisi, it’s been almost ten years!” Maggie said, trying to change the subject. 

“What on earth was that? You do know you just made a blood pact with Bella? You do know what you promised?” Sirius ranted at her, his voice was raspy and quiet, but he still managed to get his point across. 

“I know. It’s shit. Things didn’t quite go to plan, but I promise I’ll figure something out. I just wanted to get you back, cousin. Our family aren’t exactly bearable people and it’s not like you deserved to be there!” Maggie replied as calmly as she could. 

“Maggie, you are absolutely mad. Thank you, but could that have gone worse?” Sirius slumped forward on the thestral with a sigh. 

“We’re both alive and out of there, so yes. The main goal was fulfilled,” Maggie muttered. 

“You are such a Slytherin,” 

“Thank you. I have so much to tell you about cousin! Aunt Walburga is dead and is now on the wall near the library. Dumbledore is up to something and Harry starts Hogwarts this autumn!” Maggie enthused, as London grew closer. 

“As much as I’d love to hear about that, I think there are more important things to consider. Like the fact you literally promised to raise Lord fucking Voldemort through a blood pact,” Sirius groaned. 

Maggie sighed with a weak smile. She had Sirius back and Harry could have more of a family, that was certainly a plus. However, Maggie had never been one for optimism and as she played with the vial of blood in her coat pocket she wondered if there was any safe way to end a blood pact. It was unlikely...


End file.
